


Pretty Kind of Dirty Face

by badjujuboo (miztrezboo)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Drunken Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miztrezboo/pseuds/badjujuboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's just got these lips is the thing. Lips and big cheeks that make his eyes disappear when he smiles really hard. He's just got a <i>face</i> that Louis wants to grab with both hands and kiss. Sometimes. More so when he's drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Kind of Dirty Face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolfh00r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfh00r/gifts).



> for my sister wife because of boring party reasons xx

Louis knows he's drunk. He knows that he's had far too much to drink as he giggles, stumbling into the set of drawers just inside their door, knocking what sounds like one of Liam's colognes onto the floor. He apologises - another clue that he's well wankered - and struggles to get his shoes off. God, it's just been such a great night. A _great_ night. Good friends. Good food. So many laughs. The only thing that could make it better is a snuggle. A snuggle from his favourite boy.

"Favourite." He says to the quiet snores coming from beneath a mountain of blankets. Liam's always complaining of the cold, but will he put the heat on yet? No, bloody did something to the thermostat that Louis can't figure out for the life of him how to change back. He even had Niall come take a look - and Niall's good with things like that, grown up man type things like pipes and stoves and fittings - and he couldn't figure it out. Liam is a plumbers apprentice though. He probably asked one of the lads fitting out that new house he's been working on. 

"Smarty pants," Louis snickers, getting stuck inside his shirt as he attempts to pull it over his head, lurching to one side until he crashes into the open door again. "Bloody, buggering fuck. Who put that there?" he snorts and then shushes himself because, "Liam's sleeping. Liam's got to be up soon. Quiet now."

Louis finally gets his head out of his shirt, the thing sticking to his chest with what was probably the last few shots of Ouzo that he hadn't quite got into his mouth with how Harry kept making him laugh. Harry, who's idea it was to go out drinking after work on a bloody _Tuesday_ in the first place, was grinding all over the wait staff, tongue sticking out, pretending to ride them from behind, smiling innocently when they turned around. He was _just_ as bladdered as Louis was, had the same amount of drinks in the same amount of time. They'd both whined when Nick had turned up - apologised profusely to the owners that luckily, had dealt with Louis and Harry before so really didn't mind - stuffing them into his car and dropping Louis home before heading to their own after. 

Harry and Nick are so in love. So big and bright that it hurts sometimes to look at. That's what Louis and Harry had been discussing before Nick had turned up. It'd taken a while for Louis to be okay with his best mate's time being taken up by someone new. He was used to being the centre of Harry's universe for so long - even when Harry'd had girls and boys before, he'd always made Louis a priority and Louis him - but it was different with Nick. Nick lit Harry up from the inside and it made Louis _want_. He didn't want Harry, no, they'd been there, done that, bought the shirt, years ago when they'd met at some party Harry was too young to be at but he'd won Louis over with his curls and his dimples and his wicked, wicked red mouth. 

"Liam's got a mouth," Louis says, rocking forward toward the bed. "Pretty, pretty mouth," he giggles, brushing his fingers over his lips, the bottom one dry enough to stick, pulling away with a pop. He sighs as he tip taps his fingertips over his chest, draws patterns over his tummy before poking at his bellybutton with a smirk. He's always loved Liam's mouth. How big his lips are, how he pouts when he's reading his text book, trying to learn about account keeping for later on. 

God, Liam is just so fit. "So fucking _fit_ ," Louis sighs. Stopping at the foot of the bed just to _look_ at his best mate. This friend of his, that he's known for three years now. Three years of figuring out who they were together. A year where they never could quite get along. Liam being a mate of Niall's and Niall being Harry's boyfriend at the time. They were thrown together a lot, left to talk amongst themselves while Harry and Niall buggered off to _get_ off. Then that had fallen apart and somehow Louis was left with Liam while Niall and Harry sorted out how to be friends without the benefits. A year later and Louis found himself on Liam's doorstep when he was tossed out of his flat for not paying the rent on time. No one had thought they'd last a week let alone the year they've had together in this tiny one bedroom flat, but they have. They share the rent and the food and Liam cleans up after Louis and Louis. . . well he makes Liam laugh and apparently that's enough.

He's tried not to think of Liam as anything other than the best mate he's become. It's really hard though, with how small the flat is and how Liam always ends up walking around the place with a towel around his waist, looking for clean clothes. Louis might fail on doing the washing more often than not just to watch water droplets make their way down Liam's impressive chest and broad back. It's only looking though. Liam's too much of a good friend for anything more.

"Mate. Great mate," Louis says sombrely, more reminding himself of that fact than anything else. 

He shakes his head, trying to clear it a bit, which is a dumb move because if anything, it spins the room around him a little more. His fingers pluck at the button on his fly, numb fingertips useless at getting the thing undone. "Big bum's the problem," Louis laughs, because if he had a smaller one, he could just pull these jeans off. Could try, he has lost a bit of weight recently. Liam had been out of work for a bit and then Louis' lost his second job at the caf around the corner from their flat. It was why Liam had touched the thermostat control thingy in the first place.

 _"Got to save a bit of money here and there, Lou,"_ he'd said, throwing a few blankets that smelled like moth balls and old people at Louis who was shivering in every article of clothing he owned, and all of Liam's jumpers combined on the sofa. Louis' had been shaking too hard to even get a retort out. He'd just snuggled under the blankets and refused to give Liam one - even after he'd curled up against Liam's side for warmth - because Liam was probably right. Not that Louis would ever tell him that.

The button finally pops off, shooting somewhere on the floor or off the dresser by the sounds of things. Bloody old jeans. He'll have to beg Harry to sew it back on. Again. It's all good though, means he can get the things off. He cheers as quietly as possible, which is probably nothing as quiet as he thinks he's being, when they finally slide down his thighs. He kicks them off, falling face first into the pile of blankets in front of him, muffling his laughter and surprised "Oof!" when he lands. 

He must land miraculously between Liam's spread legs, crawling on all fours over the blankets and lump of boy until he's near the pillow and the mess of wavy curls that's Liam's hair. Neither of them have had hair cuts in a while. Liam keeps begging Louis to hack at it with their kitchen shears but Louis always finds a way to beg off. The thing is, he likes Liam's hair like this. Likes how it's all shaggy and fluffed up in the morning when he yawns and wakes up all slow and soft. He likes how it curls when it's wet, dripping down his back after a shower. He likes how Liam plays with it when he's really tired, moves on to stroking Louis' hair in the same way if they're curled up together on the sofa. Which, more often than not lately with their lack of funds, is where they both find themselves.

See, the things is, Louis was always meant to sleep on the sofa. He was supposed to share this flat with Liam for a few months. Until he got himself on his feet as such. He did that, but he never really left or tried to. Liam liked having someone about the house when he got home and Louis never liked being alone having grown up in a big family. This sleeping in the same bed thing, though. This is a recent occurence born out of Liam trying to save them money and it being so fucking cold in the flat that even the extra blankets Liam bought for them both aren't enough. Body heat. Body heat, though. That they've found keeps them warm through the night. Strictly speaking, the hugging where Louis gets to be the little spoon isn't probably what Liam meant when he said he'd share his bed with Lou. Still, he's the one that cuddles up behind Louis every night so it can't be that much of an imposition now can it.

"Nope. Liam likes it. Liam loves a good hug," Louis says, mostly to Liam's hair as he pulls and tugs at the blankets that Liam has near wrapped around his face and neck in an effort to keep the warmth in. Louis' feeling a bit of the cold air of the house now, being in nothing but a pair of black cotton boxers that keep sliding down his hips as he wriggles, showing off more of his bum, which means they must be Liam's. Probably are. Louis hasn't done the wash in over a week now. 

"Liam," Louis whines, when he's got most of Liam's face uncovered. His lovely chubby cheeks and his big, pouty lips that shift as he breathes out his mouth. Louis can't help but find himself smiling, grinning dopily really, because Liam's just so bloody cute like this. The lines on his brow deepen as Louis giggles, getting his hands on either side of Liam's face. just holding him for now.

"So bloody cute, you are," Louis says and Liam's breathing changes a bit, stutters. His lashes flutter as if he's waking up. "Oops," Louis chuckles, not actually feeling that sorry about waking Liam up. His face. His face makes all these face shapes though. 

"I like this face. I like this pretty face a lot," Louis says, slurring his words a bit as he leans in close, their faces only a few inches a part. "Pretty, pretty face," Louis sing songs, squishing his hands together, smooshing Liam's lips into a pout. 

"Louis," Liam says, sounding sleepy and a little annoyed. Louis shakes his head, the tips of their noses rubbing soft against each other. 

"So cute. So, _so_ fucking cute," Louis leans back, getting his knees up close on either side of the lumpy duvet that's covering Liam's disgustingly amazing body. He wears these overalls during the day, which are unflattering at best, but it's the tight white shirts he wears under that Louis loves. When he arrives home at the end of a long day sorting out pipes, and shit and toilets, he always walks in the door with one of the straps already undone. It's ridiculous really, and Louis ends up biting his knuckles not to scream about the injustice of it all when he does because it's nothing, just a bloody strap and Liam's tight shirt over his broad chest . . . but it's enough. He's just so fit. So fucking fit.

"It's not fair, is what it is," Louis sighs again, finds himself doing that a lot tonight.

"What's not fair?" Liam yawns, as Louis pats at his cheeks, stroking his fingers over Liam's light scruff. He's trying to grow a beard, or wants to start to, as he told Louis earlier in the week. So far it's this light covering that Liam is dead proud of and Louis isn't all that keen on because it covers up his stunning jaw and his cheeks. 

"I really like your cheeks," Louis says and Liam blinks one eye open, gazing up at Louis, as if opening one eye will help Louis make any sense at all. It won't. He won't tell Liam all the things he wants because then Liam might say no. Louis couldn't handle it if Liam said no. Louis has lots of friends, yeah, he likes getting to know people but he only has a few that he truly cares about. This handful that are something else. Something to have and to keep hold of.

"You'll always be my friend, yes?" Louis asks, squeezing at Liam's cheeks again because if he says no, then Louis won't be allowed to do this anymore. And that would be wrong. An injustice. 

"How drunk are you?" Liam returns with a question of his own, both eyes open now, and if there were more light in the room, Louis could look into their brown depths but there's not. Lucky, he's looked a lot lately, gotten lost a few times where Liam has to snap his fingers in front of Louis' face to get him to come back to whatever it is Liam was talking about. 

"A lot. A little. Both." He shakes Liam's face from side to side, and Liam lets him which is telling of their relationship on a whole. Most people would have pushed Louis off by now, would have yelled at him for waking them up. Not this boy. Not Louis' boy though. He just lets Louis do what he wants.

"There were shots," Louis shrugs, pursing Liam's lips together again so he looks like he has fish lips again. Fuck, Louis really wants to kiss Liam's mouth.

"Harry will have a lot to answer for in the morning." Liam rolls his eyes, speaking through his lips in a way that Louis only understands from how often he's squished Liam's face like this over the years. Drunk or sober. He gets a bit handsy with his good mates, and Liam has become one of those.

"Harry is my friend, but you. . . you are a better than friend," Louis says in all seriousness, squeezing Liam's cheeks together and then pushing the skin in the opposite direction so his lips thin out. Pale pink lines instead of that full blushing rose. Fuck. He just wants to _kiss_ him so much.

"A better than friend?" Liam says as Louis just rubs his fingertips over the apples of Liam's cheeks. He's so squishy. So pretty and squishy and friendly. A good combo really. All the things that Louis wants.

"Yes," Louis agrees, leaning in close so their noses touch. He's probably too close, going cross eyed trying to look at Liam properly but it feels right to be this close when they're discussing something of this type of importance. "You are my better friend. Better than Harry or Stan. Better than anyone. Just. Better," he finishes, rubbing his nose against Liam's from side to side.

"I'm glad," Liam grins, blinking up at Louis where he's just staring at Liam now. So pretty. 

"A pretty friend," Louis adds, a faint bubbling in his tummy and softness in his bones spurring him on. "A pretty friend with squishy cheeks and a mouth."

"That's right," Liam says with a barely contained laugh. This will not do. Liam can not be laughing at Louis when he's being serious like this. 

"No. Not funny. I love your face and your mouth. Especially your mouth. Why does everything always come back to your mouth?" Louis asks, tilting his head to the side, grabbing at Liam's lips with all of his fingers, squishing them together so Liam can't talk.

This will work better if he's silent.

"I want to touch it all the time. Want to push it with my fingers, rub it with my tongue. I want to put my mouth on your mouth. Why isn't that a thing we do? We're friends. We should definitely touch mouthes."

Liam's eyes widen and his hands wrap around Louis' wrists. It's a bit of a surprise because Louis was sure they were well tucked under the covers. It's okay though, because his hands are very big. Very, very big and they fit easily around Louis' tiny, tiny bones. Liam's hands are nearly as big as Harry's. Big hands. Big feet. Big. . . things aparently. Big lips even. Maybe that's the way that it's supposed to end. 

"You want to put your mouth on mine?" Liam says, questions really and Louis nods with a yawn. He really does. But if he does that, it could all go wrong.

"Could all go tits up though, couldn't it? I could put my mouth on your mouth and then the world could end or zombies. Zombies could be a thing. Harry says that they could," he scrunches up his nose, because even though Harry said it. Doesn't mean it's true. Harry says a lot of things. He loves to talk. 

"Or nothing like that could happen. We could like, be the opposite of that."

Louis can feel Liam's cheeks heating up under his palms and it makes him grin again. He's just so fucking cute, Louis really can't stand it. 

"You might not be my friend anymore and that would suck. A lot," Louis says, feeling like he should be the voice of reason. Drunk or not. He hadn't expected Liam to actually consider the idea of mouthes touching. He hadn't thought he'd ever bring it up with Liam actually.

Bloody Harry. Bloody shots. Bloody greek restaurant.

Bloody Liam's lips all big and pillowy. Stupid chubby cheeks that Louis thinks he might never let go of.

"Shall we test it then? Because I'm pretty sure that nothing is going to go wrong. In fact, it could get even better."

Louis hums. Considers this because Liam could have a point. A good point that means Louis can kiss him finally instead of just thinking about it and running a thousand different scenarios on how their first kiss could come about in his mind. 

"I'm drunk though. I'm drunk and you might just be a mirage or something. We should like, kiss when i'm not. Drunk. Drunk and forgetful."

Liam laughs and squeezes his grip for a minute on Louis' hands. "Okay. If that's what you want."

"No," Louis whines long and loud, finally slumping on Liam's chest. Liam hasn't let go of his hands so it's a bit of an awkward position but he doesn't really mind. "No, I would like to kiss you a lot but forgetting that I did that wouldn't be fun."

"Okay," Liam says after a while, Louis shivering a bit in the cold. "Let's get you under covers and we'll do the mouth on mouth thing in the morning. When you're awake enough to remember it's something you want."

"Oh I always want it. Have done for a long while. Your lips, my lips. A lip party. A mouth touching fiesta of sorts," Louis finishes with a yawn, rubbing his body back and over Liam's a bit, tiredness creeping up on him fast.

"I think. . . I think I'd like that. A bit of a snog fest, sounds like it would be fun."

"Mhmm," Louis hums again, already settling down a bit, rubbing his face against the scratchy woolen blanket. It's one of those ones that smell like moth balls, but it's almost comforting now.

"Get under the blankets then you idiot, you must be freezing up there in nothing but your pants. Which I note are mine, by the way." Liam says pushing at Louis until he's rolling off Liam to the side, only to be shuffled this way and that as Liam somehow gets them both back under the covers. Liam pulling Louis in until he's the little spoon like he always is every night. 

"I'll do the washing tomorrow. After the mouth touching is done," Louis promises and Liam laughs, this tickle of air against Louis' neck. 

"Of course you will. After the mouth touching." Liam agrees and he says something else but Louis can't hear him. He's already falling asleep.

> > > >

The next morning. Louis feels like death. He feels like someone killed all the good parts of waking up and replaced them with shitty ones and his stomach hurts. 

Bloody Harry. Bloody shots. Bloody greek restaurant. 

"Hello sleepy head," Liam says and Louis grunts, wriggling back into Liam's ridiculously warm body. "How are you feeling this fine morning?" Liam asks. 

Louis whimpers a bit, then stops as Liam's hand tickles over his belly and up over his chest. His naked chest. They have rules, the two of them, of how they sleep when they're in this double bed that once belonged to Liam's gran. Clothes on. Shirt and pants at the very least. A little decorum for two friends who are just friends who happen to share the same bed to keep warm.

Louis is breaking the one rule he put in place so he wouldn't have to feel Liam hold him like it meant something more. This feels like something more and that's not the best of ideas. Not when he likes Liam so much he doesn't want to risk things getting complicated. Can't risk not having a Liam in his life.

"You think you feel good enough to test that idea of yours?" Liam asks, his voice light. It's as if he wants to sound nonchalant about what he's saying. It comes out more nervous than anything else and Louis scans his brain for what he could possibly have asked Liam to do with him when he got home last night. He was so drunk. So utterly wankered that he really can't remember all that much. He definitely doesn't remember getting near naked and crawling into bed with Liam. He does remember Liam's face and talking a bit - but that's not unusual - it's something they do every night.

"My lips. Your lips. The mouth touching thing. The passionate pashing," Liam adds, like he's reminding Louis of items on their shopping list.

Louis feels ill and it's not because he mixed wine and spirits and possibly beer at the restaurant and the pub they'd been at for an hour before. Oh no. Oh very much no.

"I put some chapstick on, made sure they're nice and soft."

Oh no, no. God no. Louis squints his eyes shut hard, opens them up again and no, Liam's still there and now he's talking about being fine waiting if Louis wants to brush his teeth first. 

Brush his teeth. For the kissing thing he apparently has asked Liam about.

He's going to murder Harry.

Harry and his stupid ideas about drinking and forgetting their woes. Although, Louis is fairly certain he remembers the owners of the Greek restaurant giving him a job. It's only waiting tables but, they said something it. Louis' sure they did before he got too drunk on their home made Ouzo so. . . hopefully he didn't do anything later to change their mind. He could need that job if he has to move out. If this kissing thing is just a thing that Liam thinks he can joke about. That it won't actually be anything else.

"You're not. . . you're not reconsidering are you?" Liam asks and Louis has to turn around then, can hear the concern in Liam's voice.

"No. Not really. I mean. I was. . . I had a lot to drink so I can't remember what I said or asked for but-" Liam's fingers come up and cover Louis' lips. It sends shivers down his spine, the touch combined with Liam's dark brown eyes gazing at him with a seriousness that Louis hasn't seen before. He thought he knew all of Liam's looks.

"You can't back out of this. You finally admitted you wanted to kiss me and that's a thing I want to so. Let's just. Do the thing," Liam says with this utter conviction that Louis can only nod. He probably _should_ go brush his teeth, but he has a feeling if he leaves this bed he might not get back in. That this moment will be lost. It's like there's a million bloody butterflies dancing about in his stomach and his face feels so bloody hot as Liam moves his fingers away, leaning in closer and closer. Louis counts the lashes on his right eyelid for something to do so he's not freaking out as Liam takes his bloody time settling in close.

There's nothing but sour breath between them when Liam pauses, brow raising as Louis loses count at forty one. "My mouth on your mouth, remember?" Liam asks and Louis nods, just this tiny movement of his head and then Liam takes a breath and it's done.

Liam's lips are touching Louis'. His mouth on Liam's mouth and then Liam's smiling and Louis laughs because nothing is going wrong.

"No Zombies?" Liam asks, lips shifting in place over Louis' and this could be the weirdest kiss hes' ever had but that's okay. It's fine. Because it feels really good and it's Liam. It's Liam he's kissing after wanting to for so bloody long.

"Zombies?" Louis repeats, sucking at Liam's plush bottom lip like his mouth was made just to hold the thing between his own. 

Liam breathes out soft and long through his nose. "No, world ending? No bad things? No-" He pauses, a hint of tongue running along the seam of Louis' lips and oh _god_ can he get hard from kissing alone? This isn't a real thing is it?

Louis' dick thinks otherwise if the twitch it gives in his pants - Liam's pants - is anything to go by.

Liam's hand rubs soft up over Louis' elbow, gripping tight on Louis' upper arm. "No us not being friends. Better than friends?"

Louis chuckles, his lips brushing the corner of Liam's mouth. God he doesn't want to stop. Kissing Liam could be his next best favourite thing to do in the world. He didn't think anything would take over from making Liam smile or hearing him laugh. Kissing though. Kissing might top them all. Of course his brain remembers the better than friends thing. Of course that's the _one_ part of his drunken conversation with Liam that his stupid brain clings on to. What else did he blurt out to Liam last night?

"Kissing friends, if you want?" Louis asks a little nervous as he does so, because this is good but what if it's just for now? What if it's just for this little morning experiment? What if they're only doing this because Louis asked - near dared him probably.

"Oh I want," Liam says on this happy sigh and then he's rolling over Louis, pinning him to the bed and kissing him hard. Their bodies shift against one another, Louis' legs spreading to let Liam fit between them and oh. Liam gets hard from kissing, too. Good to know. Future reference and all.

"I want this a lot."

Louis grins into the next brush of their mouthes and that's the last either of them say for a long while.

Turns out, Louis doesn't hate the Ouzo, or the greek restaurant. Or Harry. He doesn't hate any of them at all. Not when he gets to come home stinking of garlic and lamb and covered in tzatziki that one time. He can't hate any of it when he has a Liam with a pretty face and a mouth and lips that he's allowed to kiss all of the time. Any time he wants.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Pretty Kind of Dirty Face](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3845389) by [ofjustimagine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofjustimagine/pseuds/ofjustimagine)




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